


finding family and home, in your lips (like a poem)

by venomondenim



Series: venom's parkner cinematic universe [8]
Category: Iron Man 3 (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Harley, Alpha Harley Keener, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Boys In Love, College Student Harley Keener, College Student Peter Parker, Grinding, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, More tags to be added, Omega Peter Parker, Omege Peter, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Harley Keener, eventual graphic displays of violence, survivor's guilt, working through trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 09:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomondenim/pseuds/venomondenim
Summary: When Harley's 17, he loses his entire family in a car accident, in which he is the only survivor.After he comes to New York, he finds a new family, and meaning, all in Peter Parker.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Harley Keener
Series: venom's parkner cinematic universe [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053995
Comments: 10
Kudos: 197





	finding family and home, in your lips (like a poem)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkner_keenker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkner_keenker/gifts).



> Hey guys! This is gonna go up in three parts, so I hope you enjoy part one. Let me know your thoughts and feedback on it! I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I promise it'll be soon.

When Harley was 6, his Dad left. 

It hurt, but it was okay because he had his Mom, and he had Abbie, and they were a million times better than his Dad had ever been anyway. Then, when Harley was 10, Tony Stark of all people shoe-horned his way into Harley’s life. He didn’t always have time to answer his calls, but when he did he never treated Harley like he was a child, and he needed that.

But, when Harley was 17, his Mom’s car got t-boned by a semi. They rolled, and rolled. All Harley could remember was the impact, and then everything went black. He woke up from his medically induced coma two weeks later only to find out that he had been the only survivor. He went from having a family, to having no one, in the span of two weeks.

He never knew his paternal grandparents, or really any family on his Dad’s side. He’d sure as hell never been contacted by any of them after his Father had walked out on their family. His Mom’s only sister had died in her 20’s, before Harley had even been born, and his only living relative was his maternal Grandmother. She was 87 and living in a nursing home in Maine. Harley hadn’t seen her since he was in elementary school. He was well and truly, alone. 

Someone at the hospital called Tony Stark. He wasn’t sure if it actually was someone from the hospital, or maybe a social worker with wide eyes as they took in the fact that he was listed as an Emergency Contact. Surely, it had to be some kind of prank, or a misprint. Tony showed up to the hospital the next day, only a day before Harley had been set up to be released. Harley was only two month’s shy of his 18th birthday, he thought everything with the social worker, and the apparent want to throw him into some sort of group home for eight weeks was a whole lot of hassle for nothing. Although, nothing was mostly what Harley was feeling. He could hardly fathom his Mom, or Abbie just being gone.

Tony, to his credit, hardly batted an eye. He was sympathetic, sure, but not more sympathetic than he had been when he had broken into Harley’s garage all those years ago. It was kind of refreshing. Harley would rather someone be trite, but honest, than shoot him the sad downcast eyes all of the nurses were when they thought he wasn’t paying attention. Harley was the new little orphan boy, and it made him want to crawl out of his skin. 

Tony told him that he was gonna take him back to the Tower in New York, and that he could finish the rest of his school work online. (A deal he had somehow worked out with the school while Harley hadn’t been quite lucid yet. How he seemed so equipped at handling everything Harley would never know.) He even offered to fly Harley back for graduation so that he could walk with the rest of his peers. Harley didn’t say much of anything. He didn’t exactly know what _to_ say. 

Harley rolled with the punches, and went with everything Tony suggested because he didn’t know what else to do. He kept his mouth shut and tried not to think about every little thing Abbie would have said about everything. The thought of going to New York was terrifying, and everything Harley didn’t want. But at least something unfamiliar was better than going back to his house, when all of the residents wouldn’t be around anymore. Maybe he could engage in the elaborate fantasy that he was just going away for college, and his family was waiting back home for him. Even though he had to admit that that particular train of thought was depressing. 

So, he went along to New York. He went down to the state of the art lab, and made sure to touch everything. He started working on projects, taking advantage of all of the new tech that was now at his disposal. He helped Tony work on programming for the suit, learning more than he had ever been able to self-teach himself. It wasn’t fun, perse, Harley wasn’t sure that he was physically capable of fun just yet. But it made him feel more like himself, like he was still a person, despite everything. 

Then, like the world hadn’t played enough tricks of its own, a month after he got to New York, and only two months since he lost everyone, Harley presented as an Alpha. An Alpha would had just lost all his family; his pack. It was a cruel joke. Harley didn’t necessarily mind being an Alpha. He would take it over being an Omega, and it made certain aspects of his personality and behavior make sense. But Harley didn’t really believe in all the typical stereotypes, so none of that gender stuff honestly mattered to him. What mattered was that he was designed to protect, and yet somehow he hadn’t done his job. And look, he knew rationally that there was nothing in the car accident that could have been remotely his fault. There was nothing he could have done. He was lucky that he survived at all, and with the mostly superficial injuries after he woke up as well. That didn’t mean that survivor’s guilt didn’t rear its ugly head, often. Harley should have somehow, and someway, protected them. But he had failed. 

Harley spent a lot of time beating himself up. Almost as much time as he spent building things. It was nice, building things from scratch. It didn’t really matter to Harley what it was, whether it was lines of impressive code, an AI system, or a Robot that shredded papers and pretended to nip at your ankles whenever you got too close. Tony called his inventions menaces, but Harley just considered them his contributions to the world. The world that so desperately wanted to keep him in it. 

Harley lived at the Tower, but he didn’t socialize much, and he rarely came out of his room unless it was to go to the lab. Going through his school work was a breeze. He had been flying through his classes anyways, paired with a senior schedule, and all the sudden free time in the world to work on his dumb assignments, it was nearly a no brainer. (And Tony did make good on his promise to fly Tony down to Tennessee for graduation. Tony and Pepper had sat in the stands, cheering him on when his name was called. They looked out of place, Tony with his neatly tailored, impeccable suit, and Pepper with her dress that was angled and razor sharp. Harley was grateful. He really was. But he had to pretend like it didn’t sting when it was them cheering him on and not his Mom wolf whistling, and Abbie screeching, like he had always pictured. Harley sat stiffly with his classmates, classmates of whom he hadn’t talked to in months, who also had never reached out to him when he left anyway. Whatever. Fuck Rose Hill. Harley wasn’t even in the mood to pretend like he had ever fit in.) 

(It was after the ceremony when Tony took them out to dinner and spent most of the evening trying to talk Harley into applying to MIT. Harley bit his tongue and carefully withheld the information that he had already applied. He didn’t want to get accepted because Tony had put in a good word, he wanted to get accepted from his own merits.) 

Again, Harley was grateful, he really was. He knew he would have been fucked if Tony hadn’t swooped in and played Daddy Warbucks. It didn’t make the pain go away though, and it didn’t make him miss them less. He started going to therapy after Tony had enough of him sulking. He started taking one day at a time, just like his therapist recommended. It got a little easier after that, but Harley still felt like there was a pair of bricks sitting on his chest sometimes late at night. This was his life now, and he was going to have to get used to it. Harley was allowed to believe the world was cruel, though. 

The world was especially cruel when Harley met the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen in his life. 

Harley wanted to record to show that when the boy swung in through a glass window on the penthouse floor of the Tower he did not scream. He did not let out a frankly girlish scream as he grabbed at his chest like a swooning maiden from _Gone with the Wind_. The boy was in a pair of jeans that had a rip down the side, and blood stains on it, in fact, almost every article of clothing he was wearing had blood stains on it. He was covered in a thin sheen of dirt, and his hoodie and t-shirt were in disarray and absolutely scattered with rips and shreds. He was wearing a ski-mask that hid all of his features, so Harley hadn’t even registered his beauty, first. Instead, he was focused on whatever robber had just come flying through the Avengers Tower window because, Jesus Christ. 

The boy swayed however, and then tugged up his mask to reveal a face that was far younger than Harley was anticipating. His face was also somehow impressively covered it dirt, but what Harley zeroed in on was the big bruise that was taking up most of his cheek. He had big brown eyes, and eventually when he squeezed the rest of the mask off Harley could make out a wild mess of brown curls that framed his face and ears. The boy swayed harder though, and then gripped his side like he was in great pain. 

“Could you uh?” The boy spoke up, “Uh, get Mr. Stark for me?” 

Harley could only nod as the boy in front of him stilted, and then fell down to one knee. Harley took a step towards him without even really realizing what his body was doing. As soon as he got closer a scent wafted over to him. He identified it as Omega, but that barely registered for him. What was most distressing was the overwhelming aroma of an Omega who was clearly in pain. 

“FRIDAY!?” Harley called, his voice frantic. “Can you tell Tony to, and I quote, ‘get the fuck up to the penthouse. Code 911, someone is bleeding out on the floor.’” Harley swallowed as he got even closer. “Alert Medbay that we have an incoming trauma patient…?” He said, hating how it came out more as a question towards the end. Well, it wasn’t like the boy was very forthcoming. 

Tony only took about a minute or two to come up to the Penthouse, but by that time Harley had already steeled himself and had lifted the guy up to support him with his shoulders. The boy was barely conscious at that point, and could barely keep himself up. Harley wanted to take stock of his injuries, but he also didn’t want to jostle anything, or potentially hurt him worse. 

As soon as Tony got off the elevator and took in the site of Harley and his newfound rag-doll his jaw dropped. Finally. He had surely taken his sweet time. 

“Parker?” He said a little hysterically. “Jesus, where’s your suit?” 

In answer, the boy just lulled his head to the side, looking more and more like a dead body by the minute. “We gotta get him down to Medbay.” Harley said as he adjusted his grip on the boy who evidently was ‘Parker’. 

In a joint effort from Tony and Harley, that honestly felt more like they were moving a couch than a living breathing person, they got Parker down to Medbay, where a nurse practitioner was waiting. After the kid had been rolled away Harley didn’t stick around. He went back up to the Penthouse and tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened. Once he got off the elevator and walked into the sitting room area he couldn’t stop staring at the blood that Parker had left. 

\--

Harley got some answers later the next day. The boy, who was Spider-Man it turned out, was going to be fine. Apparently he had some kind of healing factor that had kicked in overnight. Harley was a little too proud of the fact that he had figured it out all on his own. The swinging into a high-rise window was a big factor in his discovery, but he was still allowed to be impressed at his detective skills. Parker had a high quality suit that was supposed to protect him, and send Tony all sorts of alerts. But the kid hadn’t been wearing it at the time, and still threw himself into danger anyway. 

The story was that Parker had been on the subway, in his civvies. It was late at night and the platform was mostly deserted. An overly aggressive Alpha decided it was his time to get into a brawl with his Omega girlfriend, and Parker had immediately intervened. What he hadn’t been expecting was for the Alpha to blind-slide him with a gnarly left hook, and had pushed him in front of a subway train. It took several minutes for Harley to process the fact that the kid he had seen last night had just been _hit by a moving train_ , and was still mostly in one piece once Harley had seen him. He had somehow crawled his way up, and used the last reserve of his energy to swing to the Tower. After Harley learned everything he went to his room and was very tempted to punch his wall. He was so angry he could barely see straight, and he couldn’t figure out why. He hardly knew a thing about Parker, so he couldn’t understand why he was so irrationally angry on his part. 

It was probably because of the fact that he had been so polite. The kid had been near death and still referred to Tony as “Mr. Stark,” which was oddly endearing. (It also was probably the fact that he was pretty. Really, really, pretty.) 

After that terrifying incident, Harley went a full two weeks before he saw Parker again. He was in the lab this time, talking to Tony excitedly about something. He stopped short and stared at Harley with wide eyes as he walked into the lab. It made Harley want to leave the room. He didn’t want to be a reason for Parker to stop talking. He was in a clean pair of jeans, and had a graphic t-shirt on with a flannel overtop of it. His mop of curls were just as messy as Harley remembered. When Harley called him ‘Parker’ he wrinkled his nose adorably and shot a look at Tony, then at Harley, then back to Tony. 

“My name’s Peter, by the way,” he corrected after a minute. “It’s Peter Parker.” 

“Okay, Parker,” Harley said, because he _had to_. 

The quirk of lips that turned into a shy smile that Peter gave him for his comment should have been illegal. It hit Harley then suddenly, and mostly at once that he was attracted to him. He wasn’t going to do anything about it, but it was there. 

“Oh God,” Tony said suddenly like he had just realized something, while Peter and Harley stared at each other. “There’s _two_ of you, now.” 

“I don’t know,” Harley pretended to play along, but he also wanted Peter to know that he _knew_. “I’m no Spider-Man.” 

Peter’s eyes widened noticeably, before he relaxed, and gave Harley a smile. “Not yet. Just give me a few days with the lab and some radiation and we could probably cook up something.” 

Harley laughed then, an all out belly laugh, that even surprised him. It was funny though. He got a brief image of Peter in glasses and lab coat as they worked on their super secret formula to turn Harley into a superhero. Harley didn’t want to be a superhero. But it was a nice thought. Tony eyed them suspiciously for the rest of lab time, even going so far as to squint his eyes when Peter flashed Harley another one of those secret smiles that had Harley wanting to show off and say whatever he could to keep getting him to give it to him. 

“Parker’s a good kid,” Tony said later, once Peter had cleared out, claiming to have to get home to have dinner with his Aunt. 

“He’s a superhero,” Harley pointed out reasonably. 

Tony threw a dart at him, which had Harley squawking and ducking. God, Tony could be such a child sometimes. “No but he’s,” he paused, only for a second. “He’s a good guy to hang around.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harley said idly as he stared a little too hard at a schematic in front of him. Tony sighed then, like having Harley’s teenage self in his zone was very annoying for him, even though Harley knew deep down Tony was very fascinated with the youth. 

\--

It was about another two weeks later when Harley ran into Peter in the lobby. He had just come back from a run, and was drenched in sweat. It was the middle of summer and Harley was only in a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top. He liked running in New York a lot better than in Tennessee, there was way more to look at. 

And by ran into, he meant he was knocked into by the hurricane that was Peter Parker who’s backpack promptly exploded in a firework show of papers as soon as they made impact. Harley grunted as he tried to process what was going on, while also maintaining his balance so he wouldn’t topple over. Peter just blinked at him, hair flopping in his eyes. Then he started apologising furiously. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m just running late for this thing and…” he trailed off. Harley was waiting for him to finish his sentence but he never did. Instead, he was just staring at Harley. 

Harley, at a loss for what to do snapped his fingers, which pretty quickly brought Peter out of his impromptu reverie. “Peter? Everything okay? I think I lost you?” 

Peter swallowed, Harley could tell because he watched as his Adam's apple bobbed. “Right.” He said a little meekly, which made Harley frown.

“What’s up? You said you were in a hurry?” At the reminder Peter seemed to come back to himself a bit and the tornado picked back up again. He started shoving papers back into his backpack with vigor as he stuttered something about an ‘MJ’ killing him if he was late again. 

Just as he was about to fly out the door again he held off, looking shy again suddenly. “Would you, uh, want to like, I don’t know, hang out sometime?” He asked, and Harley hadn’t been expecting that. At Harley’s lack of immediate answer his face fell. “Or not. I just thought you know, we’re like the same age, and you’re new in town so like…” he bit his lip, and Harley had to use most of his self control not to stare at him doing it. He deflated. “Nevermind. It was stupid.” 

“No I-” Harley said, and then wanted to smack himself. “We should hang out sometime for sure.” 

Peter immediately beamed. “Yeah?” 

Harley couldn’t help but smile, Peter’s smile was infectious. “Yeah.” 

They stood there for a couple seconds, like a bunch of idiots, before Peter seemed to realize how much time their conversation had taken up and how it had only added in making him even more late than he already was. “Shit, I really have to go. But um, call me?” Peter said, and then almost as quick as he had trounced in, he was gone. 

Harley blinked after him, completely caught off guard until he realized. “Wait.” He said, even though Peter was already long gone and wouldn’t hear him. “I don’t have your number.” 

\--

Harley was pretty impressed when a few hours later he asked FRIDAY to pull up the contact information for a Mr. Peter Parker. FRIDAY had provided everything from his phone number to his email address for Harley to have at his disposable. Harley wasn’t going to be weird and send him an email, but he would admit to smiling stupidly when FRIDAY had chirped that it was ‘peterpan2001@gmail . com’, which was ridiculous, and so charmingly fitting. 

Harley held onto the phone number for a few days, unsure of what to do. In the end, he ended up texting him, figuring that it was the safest bet. He chastised himself for being so nervous over something so dumb. Peter had been the one to ask him to reach out in the first place anyway. 

\--

Once Harley dipped his toes in, him and Peter started hanging out all the time. He met Peter’s friends, and it was almost a wonder how seamlessly he fit into their group. They were all smart, and funny, and kind, and never made Harley feel prickly, like most of the other kids in Rose Hill had. They didn’t ask questions as to why he was at the Tower, or why he was living with Tony, and he appreciated that. The only thing they judged him for was his taste in music, and how he didn’t have a TikTok. It made him feel light, and like maybe life wasn’t all bad after losing his family. 

Ned was a Beta, and MJ was an Alpha. Harley had worried that they wouldn’t get along at first, but MJ wasn’t territorial, and everyone’s designations seemed irrelevant to the group. He could tell that Peter was an Omega, but the boy had never come outright with that information, or even seemed to acknowledge it in the slightest. In fact, none of the people in the group seemed to bring up their own designations. It was odd, but also refreshing. Back in Tennessee everyone had been so focused on it. The few kids who had presented were immediately stereotyped by their status, and it was a constant topic of speculation what everyone’s statuses were going to be. This in comparison was a nice change of pace. 

\--

Overtime Harley found himself getting closer, and closer to Peter. (He also absolutely did not think about how he had hastily filled out a late application to NYU when he found out that Peter and MJ had early admission there. When he got his acceptance letter from MIT he looked at it for a whole day before throwing it in the trash. He had spent years dreaming about it, but after everything it felt wrong. He had just gotten used to New York, he didn’t want to have to get used to Boston as well. ~~And also Boston didn’t have its own Peter Parker in residence~~.) 

Harley didn’t always hang out with Peter and his friends though, and eventually Peter started coming to the Tower. He would join Harley in his room and talk about everything and anything. Harley could talk to him for hours without getting bored. He still kept some things close to his chest, but he was working on it, and Peter seemed to understand. He never pressed, and would retract any question that made Harley uncomfortable almost as soon as it would leave his mouth. Harley appreciated it. He really did. But it was also making him start to feel guilty.

Especially after Peter had told him about his Uncle Ben one night. Peter had decided to crash in Harley’s room because he had been too tired to swing home. Harley’s bedroom in the Tower was ostentatiously big and could probably double as its own apartment if decorated right. It had a large bed in the corner, with a couch and a TV on the other side of the room. Peter slept on the couch. Harley may have been in denial, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that an Alpha and an Omega sleeping in the same bed for a night would be anything other than a bad idea. 

He had woken up in the middle of the night to Peter having a nightmare. After he woke him up Peter had tearfully told him about his Uncle. How it had been his responsibility to save him, and he hadn’t. Harley’s own trauma had been on the tip of his tongue. But this wasn’t about him, and he didn’t want to cheapen the moment. It all still felt too new, and too raw. He was sure that the words wouldn’t come out right. 

He knew that it was mostly because he didn’t want to let himself be vulnerable. But knowing the problem, and finding a solution were sometimes not always linear, and Harley preferred to just ignore it altogether. He would tell Peter when and if the time was right. 

The right time ended up being once Peter and Harley had already started at NYU. Peter had somehow swindled Harley into coming to a dorm party that sucked, but at least there was alcohol. Harley wasn’t anywhere near drunk, but was solidly tipsy, and feeling a little melancholy. He had stepped out at one point, and was trying to focus on the chilly night air of fall in New York instead. It was colder than Tennessee, and Harley was trying to get used to having an actual proper fall instead of the mock ones that Rose Hill had provided. 

He was busy studying the windows on the dorm building adjacent to the one they were at when he heard the door whoosh behind him, and then the sound of footsteps. He didn’t even have to look to know who was shuffling to stand beside him. Harley had slowly become attuned to Peter’s presence. He could feel the energy shift as soon as he was around. Not like he would admit this to anyone, but he could probably pick his scent out of a crowded room at this point. 

Once Peter was beside him, Harley felt the words start to tumble out. “Me, my Mom, and my little sister Abbie were in a car accident.” He said. He felt Peter turn to look at him. “I was the only one who survived.” His tongue felt heavy, and he wanted to choke saying those words out loud. “That’s why I’m here,” he finished lamely. Then, last minute, decided to tack on, “And my Dad skipped out back when I was 6.” 

Peter put a hand on his shoulder and it was almost too much. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I-” Harley licked his lips, feeling a little helpless. “I just, I get it. I get everything. I didn’t say anything because it was still too…” He couldn’t find the right word, but he knew Peter would understand. “But I wanted you to know.” 

Peter rested his head on Harley's shoulder as Harley took in his scent. He could easily get lost in it if he wanted, but he wasn’t sure if Peter would let him. They stood out there in the fall air like that for the next little while, as Peter let him brew in silence, always seeming to know what he needed, even when Harley didn’t know himself. 

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” Peter asked him, his voice getting halfway carried with the breeze. 

Harley merely cocked an eyebrow, which had Peter grinning, and tucking into his side further. It was just because of the cold, Harley told himself sternly, even as Peter put one of his hands in his pocket. “You should come to dinner tomorrow.” It was phrased like a question, but Peter’s tone suggested anything but. It was less of a recommendation and more of a declaration. 

“Dinner?” Harley echoed, feeling like he was missing something. 

But Peter only smiled, like he was privy to something Harley wasn’t. “You should come to dinner.” 

\--

That was how Harley started having dinner with the Parker’s every Friday night and Sunday night. 

The first dinner Harley didn’t know what to expect. As soon as he stepped into the Parker’s apartment he immediately felt himself relax. Their apartment was homey, and covered from head to toe in tiny little personal details, whether it be knickknacks strewn about, art up on the walls, or books with pages dogeared all over every surface. It was so homey that something in Harley’s sternum hollowed out then spilled over with molten lava as he took in how warm it was. 

Peter had greeted him at the door with a smile that could cure cancer, and he ushered him in. The kitchen was smokey and Harley had about a half second to be genuinely concerned when Peter’s Aunt was dashing into the kitchen, limbs in a fury. “She’s a terrible cook,” Peter said brightly, but leaned into Harley’s space so the words were private, and just for him. Harley had to hold back a shiver. “Luckily she burned the meatloaf so that means we get to have takeout.” Peter’s eyes were a tad too bright at that admission and Harley had to theorize just how terrible of a cook his Aunt actually was. As soon as he watched Aunt May scrape the charred remains of what was the meatloaf into the trash can he decided to defer to Peter’s judgement by default. 

Peter went over to a drawer in the kitchen and picked up a takeout menu with flourish. He wouldn’t allow Harley to look at the menu, or order for himself. Harley pretended to be petulant, but a small part of him was taking in satisfaction with Peter being so playful with him. He liked it when Peter teased him, and cracked jokes, but most of all, he loved when Peter lost his shy demeanor and allowed himself to be the bratty bossy little smart-mouth that Harley had grown to adore. 

“It’s Chinese so it’s basically impossible to not like it,” Peter had defended when Harley had accused him of just wanting to boss him around. Peter’s eyes had gleamed. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it, Keener.” He was right. Harley couldn’t.

When the food arrived, Harley dug in, and Peter gave him a self-satisfied smug grin as Harley damn near moaned over how good it tasted. Peter had gotten the same thing, but they also split a plate of spring rolls. 

The dinner was good, and Harley was surprised by how much he liked Peter’s Aunt right away. She was younger than he had been expecting, and was effortlessly cool in the way that made Harley think she was something of a retired hipster. Peter had teased that the only reason they got a discount from the Chinese place was because the owner’s son had a massive crush on May. May had denied it, but Peter made sure to whisper all sorts of stories into Harley’s ear that proved it was true. Harley laughed and joked along with them, feeling a sort of comfort in him that he hadn’t felt in a while. 

When Peter “walked him out” like the goddamn gentleman he was he couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and kissed him. Peter was surprised at first, and Harley froze, panicking for a second that he had made a mistake. Peter recovered quickly though, and pretty soon he was rearing Harley back in for a kiss that was less chaste and involved a lot more tongue. 

“Fuck.” Peter said when him and Harley finally pulled away. Then he laughed. It was like music to Harley’s ears. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that since I saw you in those basketball shorts.” 

Harley blinked. Then he blinked again. “But- you- that was months ago!” 

Peter nodded, licking his lips. Harley wondered if it was supposed to be as seductive as it seemed. “I can be very patient.” 

“Well I’m not.” Harley said, and then he was leaning forward to kiss him again. He pressed Peter into the brick wall outside his apartment building and kissed him like he meant it. He licked over his lip before he curled his tongue around his teeth, wanting to explore Peter’s mouth with his tongue. Peter huffed out a whine that came from the back of his throat and it took a lot of effort on Harley’s part to not start tenting in his jeans. He kissed him until Peter was pushing him back, his lips swollen, and cheeks pink from being flushed. 

“We’re going to be doing a lot of that,” Peter said, his voice all breathy, and Harley wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him want to stop kissing him. Because it was having the opposite effect. As well as the fact that Harley was fairly certain it would take nothing short of an actual apocalypse to get him to not want to kiss Peter. 

“We could have been doing this for months,” Harley said petulantly, now feeling duped that he hadn’t caught on earlier. 

Peter’s lips twitched into that private smile, but this time it looked a little sad. “You weren’t ready.” He said, and Harley was struck then by a certain kind of awe. Peter had waited for him, had waited until he was emotionally ready, and wasn’t that something special? Peter deserved something that would be kindled, and taken care of. Harley wanted to do that for him. 

After that, dinner with the Parker’s becomes a regular thing. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading. i live off comments and kudos. you can find me on twitter, tumblr, or discord @venomondenim. my ask box is always open.


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